Since I bought a new bird feeding station, I seem to spend quite a bit of time standing at the kitchen window looking out into the garden and shouting out the names of the birds I see. (This is to MOTH, I haven’t quite got to the stage of yelling Dunnock! to myself.)
The more time I spend watching them, the more each of their behavioural traits reveal themselves. One bird I have always loved, is the starling. Such bickering sibling aerial squabblers! The rowdy jostling never seems to be anything more than a feathered spat and the amount of different noises they can produce is quite impressive. Did you know, starlings are great at mimicking? From the calls of other birds to car alarms and ringtones – watch out – you have probably been fooled by one at some point.
But it occurs to me, that the starling is not one creature, but two. On the ground and in our gardens, they are shouting, raucous and boisterous but in the air, they become another being altogether. If you have ever seen a murmuration, you will know what I mean. The organism that swells into being from the massed bodies of thousands of starlings, is gentle and undulating – far away from the feisty beasts that brawl over our feeders.
My mum and I often swap texts about which birds we have just seen in our respective gardens, and after telling her of a good starling quarrel I had just watched, she mentioned that her brother no longer saw starlings in his garden, as he used to.
So, here is a starling and poem for all who don’t have the delight of these wonderful, ridiculous and amazing birds.
The Starling
Jostle hustle bustle tussle
Jibber jabber
Fuss and fluster
Squabble starling
Mimic beak
Bicker chatter
Playful cheek
On the ground: clowns.
But in the air breathtaking acts of wonder.
Ebbing shoals surge together.
Balloon, shrink, grow and flow.
Hive mind.
Mesmerised.
I am lulled to stop and stare in silenced admiration.
Transformed starling, flock of feather
A dance of perfect murmuration.